


Raised in captivity

by cruellae (tinkabelladk)



Series: The Mating Habits of Apex Predators [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Genesis is a dirty cheater (at duels), M/M, Sephiroth has feelings, Sephiroth the monster whisperer, just mad scientist things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-10-09 23:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20517890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkabelladk/pseuds/cruellae
Summary: Hojo gave a brittle, cawing laugh. “Foolish boy. Sephiroth is not going to fall in love with you. He’s not even going to think of you when you’re not right there in front of him. You had better get that straight before you do something stupid.”Cloud hadn’t even realized he wanted that to happen until Hojo said it was an impossibility.~Featuring the most dangerous pet in Midgar, unorthodox dueling strategies, and Cloud Strife in a mako tank~Sequel to A wolf in the woods, but you don't have to have read it to understand this one.





	1. Chapter 1

_ “Goodnight, Sephiroth. I’ll see you in the morning.”  _

_ The green letters of the clock in the corner of the lab showed that it was past midnight when Hojo switched off the lights and locked the sturdy door behind him. Sephiroth watched the minutes tick by--ten whole minutes just to be sure Hojo wasn’t going to come back for something he’d forgotten.  _

_ Then he crouched at the far end of his enclosure, took a giant step forward, and leaped over the seven foot wall of bulletproof glass. The lab was dark, but he could see well enough.  _

_ “Did you hear what Hojo said today, Maru?” he said, approaching the chamber that held the coeurl Hojo had been doing experiments on. Her silver fur gleamed in the darkness, her eyes bright with mako, bright like Sephiroth’s. “He said that you’re getting stronger too. You’re probably the strongest coeurl in the world.”  _

_ Maru got to her feet, her tentacles reaching out towards Sephiroth. He saw himself reflected in the glass that separated them, a skinny boy in scrubs, his dirty hair falling to his shoulders. He pressed his hand to the glass, and on the other side, she reciprocated the gesture with one of her paws.  _

_ “When I go to war, you’re coming with me,” Sephiroth promised. He knew that was one of the reasons he was created. “We’ll be unstoppable.”  _

_ He reached out to her mind with the connection they shared--something to do with J-cells, Hojo had once told him. He could feel her frustration at her captivity, her desire to be free on the open fields where she’d lived before Hojo captured her. She wanted to run and hunt, and Sephiroth understood the yearning completely.  _

_ He only ever got to hunt in the glass enclosed “arena” where Hojo pitted him against Shinra soldiers or monsters to measure his strength.  _

_ He didn’t know then that Maru was created for that purpose as well, that she was being enhanced only as a means of testing his new abilities. He found out when she was forced into the enclosure with him, driven to madness with drugs and electric shocks until she couldn’t tell friend from foe. Even their connection wasn’t strong enough to save her, and Sephiroth had been forced to kill her.  _

_ For that short time she’d lived in the lab, she had been his only friend. Looking at her blood, spilled onto the arena’s dirt floor, he vowed he would never become so attached to a living being again.  _

#

Hojo shone a light into each of Cloud Strife’s blue, glowing eyes, watching the pupils. They were still round, he noted, and did not expand or contract as much as Sephiroth’s. He would have a greater range of vision and more accurate night vision than the average SOLDIER, but would not rival Sephiroth.

This specimen was inferior to Sephiroth in almost every way, in fact, proving Hojo’s hypothesis that in-utero injections of Jenova cells and mako treatments applied almost daily from ages zero to fourteen were the most effective ways to create a superior being. 

Still, Strife was an excellent proof of concept for a new, J-cell based regimen that could be given to the worthiest of SOLDIERs, if Shinra wished. His scores on the tests of strength, speed, and stamina were accelerating rapidly, just as Hojo predicted. 

The process was not quite done, however, and the next few steps were not going to be pleasant for Strife. Hojo had been pleased to discover at the outset that Strife had a remarkable stoicism and commendable pain tolerance, but time in a mako tank could break a man. Sephiroth had been ten years old before Hojo had been willing to attempt it. He believed he had been successful in preventing Sephiroth from sustaining any irreversible psychological trauma by taking that approach. But you never could be sure with Sephiroth. 

“Uh, Dr. Hojo?” 

Hojo looked up from his clipboard at his subject, who was sitting shirtless on the metal exam table, a tube running from a bright blue bag of mako to the needle jabbed into his arm. Beneath his pale skin, the veins were starting to glow slightly.

“Can I get back to taking missions yet?” Strife asked. “I know last time you said not to, but…” 

“No.” Hojo checked the level of mako in the IV bag. “I want your body to stabilize before you exert yourself too much. In fact, I’d like you to avoid getting your heart rate up for the next three days. I’ll give you a note for your commanding officer.” 

“Sure,” Strife said easily, swinging his legs against the table. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Hojo glanced at him. “I won’t stop you.” 

“Has Sephiroth ever had a boyfriend?” Strife asked. 

“No,” Hojo said, setting his clipboard aside. This was actually an important topic of conversation. “And don’t expect that he’ll think of you that way either.” 

Strife set his jaw in an oddly defiant way. “Why did you send me up there, then?” 

“Why do you think?” Hojo gave a brittle, cawing laugh. “Foolish boy. Sephiroth is not going to fall in love with you. He’s not even going to think of you when you’re not right there in front of him. You had better get that straight before you do something stupid.” 

It was amazing, Hojo thought, that even though Strife was a seasoned soldier, his vulnerabilities were still so clear for anyone to see. 

“You don’t know that,” he said, but Hojo could sense his uncertainty. 

“No one knows Sephiroth better than I do,” he said, and picked up his notepad to scribble down the numbers on the monitors hooked up to the test subject. 

It was cruel, perhaps, but for the best. Hojo didn’t spend almost thirty years raising Sephiroth to be a sharp-edged weapon of war for it all to be undermined by some country boy with a nice smile. Sephiroth had a higher purpose to fulfill. Strife was meant to be a moment’s entertainment, a reward for a job well done. Nothing more. 

#

Cloud was in a miserable mood by the time he left Hojo’s lab. This wasn’t all that unusual, as he generally left the labs feeling nauseated, dizzy, and in varying amounts of pain. 

Today it was worse, however, because he couldn’t stop thinking about what Hojo had said. 

_ Sephiroth is not going to fall in love with you.  _

Cloud hadn’t even realized he wanted that to happen until Hojo said it was an impossibility. After all, this thing between himself and Sephiroth was relatively new, and he hadn’t fallen into it with much in the way of expectations. Sephiroth was, not surprisingly, very busy, and Cloud only got to see him outside of work about once a week. And sure, every time that happened, it was more like a booty call than a date, but Cloud had kind of assumed that would eventually change. 

Now he began to wonder if he’d been wrong. 

He took the elevator up to the SOLDIER command center. He wasn’t thrilled about missing three days of practice, but the way he felt right now, he’d probably not make it through a whole session anyway. He just needed to get the note to Commander Hewley and then he could crash. 

“Hewley’s in the VR room,” the trooper standing guard by the elevators informed Cloud. “Sephiroth and Rhapsodos are in there with him. If I were you, I’d wait out here.” 

While it was probably a terrible idea to interrupt a duel between First Class SOLDIERs, Cloud wasn’t sure he’d be able to remain upright for that much longer. Whatever Hojo had done to him felt like fire beneath his skin, thrumming along his veins and arteries. 

It would be worth it, he reminded himself. Hojo was fucking insane, but he knew what he was doing. Cloud could feel his body getting stronger after each treatment. 

He wondered if Sephiroth had gone through the same sort of thing. No one really knew anything about Sephiroth’s past--despite the many rumors that flew around Midgar--but given that he was named General of Shinra’s armies at age fifteen, he must have been enhanced when he was pretty young.

Cloud swiped his keycard outside the VR room and was only a little surprised when it actually worked. Sephiroth had changed his access level so that he could always make it up to the First Class apartments, and in the process had apparently unlocked almost everything else. 

He stepped inside cautiously. They had the Junon simulation running, and Sephiroth was at the far end of the cannon, in the process of dodging the bright bursts of flame Genesis was hurling at him. Although his blade never stopped moving, Sephiroth’s eyes landed on Cloud’s face and lingered there. Cloud wished he could read the General’s expression. 

“My friend, do you fly away now?” Genesis called out, with a quick glance at Cloud. “To a world that abhors you and I?” 

Angeal raised his head, listening, and Cloud got the sense the poetry was some kind of code between them, because Angeal immediately changed his tactics in favor of recklessly rushing Sephiroth, the Buster Sword on his back flashing in the light as he ran down the length of the cannon. 

The clash of their swords was like poetry, grace and violence tied together, and Cloud was so awed, watching it, that he didn’t notice Genesis until it was too late. Rapier was so close to his neck Cloud could feel the heat radiating off of it. It always responded to materia use, even though Genesis hadn’t set it ablaze this time. 

“Sephiroth,” Genesis called, and his voice was half-playful and half not. “My friend, the fates are cruel. All that awaits this little chocobo is a somber morrow.” 

“Genesis.” Angeal’s tone was full of reproach. “That’s dishonorable.” 

Cloud elbowed Genesis in the ribs as hard as he dared given that Rapier was still at his throat. “You’re lucky I just came outta the labs, asshole,” he muttered. He felt hot and prickly with humiliation. All these years spent trying to win Sephiroth’s respect, only to be taken hostage in a duel. 

“I saw an opening and I took it,” Genesis said. “Against a strong foe, there is no shame in an unorthodox approach. Sephiroth--do you yield?” 

“This isn’t fair,” Angeal said. “Genesis--”

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, as impassive as always. “Let him go.” 

“No,” Cloud protested, squirming in Genesis’s grip. “Don’t surrender because of me. That’s stupid. You’d never do that on a real battlefield.”

“We need to have a talk about this, Gen,” Angeal said, grabbing Genesis by the arm and pulling him away. 

“Oh, very well.” Genesis released Cloud and directed a final smirk at Sephiroth before Angeal dragged him out the door. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Cloud said, scowling down at his boots. “I didn’t mean to--”

“Think nothing of it,” Sephiroth said softly. He walked past Cloud and out the door, leaving Cloud alone in the glorious Junon sunset. 

#

Sephiroth was not exactly adept at reading social cues. In fact, he had been told he was downright awful at it. Being raised in a lab without the presence of other children or any people who weren’t doing experiments on you would do that to anyone, he supposed. 

But even socially maladjusted as he was, he knew he should not have walked out on Cloud. He knew it as he was leaving the training room, and he wasn’t surprised when several days went by without a response to the single text he’d sent a few hours after the incident. He’d even gone so far as to make a phone call, but Cloud hadn’t answered. 

He figured that silence was answer enough. 

And yet his mind kept returning to it, stubbornly ruminating. Reminding him what it had been like to hold Cloud in his arms, to see that bright smile and know it was meant only for him. 

When Genesis had taken Cloud “hostage,” it had been a dirty trick to win a friendly duel, nothing more. But the sight of sharp steel at Cloud’s throat had triggered some fierce, primal instinct in Sephiroth, and he had nearly sliced Genesis open before he realized what he was doing. 

To know that he had such a blatant weakness was...disheartening, to say the least. He was acting irrationally and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

Hojo would be disappointed in his very flawed creation. 

Every evening, Sephiroth thought about seeking Cloud out. A face to face conversation would be impossible for Cloud to avoid, after all. But what could he say? Should he convince Cloud to change his mind and return to their more intimate relationship? Or was it better for both of them to remain colleagues and nothing more? 

It was both unusual and frustrating for him to have no strategy to follow. 

#

“You look distracted,” Angeal said, looking up from the mission reports spread on the table. They were going through the routine assignments for the next month, determining which SOLDIERs should be sent where. Technically it was a task Genesis was responsible for as well, but he never bothered to help. 

“I have a lot on my mind,” Sephiroth said absently, reading down the list of SOLDIER Second Class operatives to find an ideal candidate to clear out a monster infestation in the underwater reactor at Junon. 

Angeal made a noncommittal noise but didn’t push for details like Genesis might have. He was making notes on the Third Class roster, occasionally making a soft “tsk” of disapproval. 

“Where are you sending Strife?” Sephiroth asked, before he could stop himself. 

Angeal gave him a puzzled glance. “He’s not going anywhere. Hojo’s got him in the labs for two weeks. I thought you knew.” 

Sephiroth shook his head, dismayed.  _ Two weeks?  _ That was highly unusual. And Hojo was supposed to notify him before doing experiments on any SOLDIERs, as they were all technically under Sephiroth’s command. 

“Who signed off on it?” Sephiroth asked. 

“I assumed you had.” Angeal shrugged. “You’re the only one with the authority to.” 

Sephiroth scowled, furious. Of course Hojo would assume that getting his permission was not necessary. To Hojo he was still an experimental specimen, not a commander of armies. A scientist didn’t ask permission from the lab rats before running them through the maze, after all. 

“You’ve got that look again,” Angeal said. 

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware he appeared any different than usual. 

“Like you’re about to murder someone,” Angeal clarified. “Like when Gen had Cloud at swordpoint in that duel. He was just messing around, but you almost cut him open. He might not have noticed, but I did.” 

Sephiroth couldn’t deny the brief and almost irrepressible rage that had momentarily overcome him at the sight of Cloud, helpless with sharp steel at his throat. 

“It was an instinct, nothing more,” Sephiroth said. “I had it under control. I would never have harmed Genesis.” 

“I know. If I had thought you were, I would have gotten in the way.” 

“Honor bound to sacrifice yourself for a friend?” Sephiroth asked, slightly amused. 

Angeal was quiet for a moment. “It has nothing to do with honor,” he finally admitted. “It’s just--I don’t think I’d really want to live without Genesis. If one of us has to die, I’d rather it be me.” 

Sephiroth was quiet for a moment, surprised at the sentiment. Angeal and Genesis were close friends, of course, but they argued as often as they got along, and certainly didn’t seem to be romantically involved. 

“My point is,” Angeal continued, “don’t go down to the labs and murder the good doctor, okay?” 

“I don’t intend to go down there at all,” Sephiroth protested. “Cloud will be fine. I’m not worried.” 

Angeal gave him a wry look like he knew that was a lie. 

#

Sephiroth pushed open the door to Hojo’s lab and walked in. He could hear Hollander and Hojo arguing about something, but paid them no attention because there, standing in a corner of the room casting an eerie blue glow over the surroundings, was a tank of mako. Inside it, Cloud Strife floated limply, the machine beside him counting out his slow heartbeats. 

“Don’t,” Hojo snapped, as Sephiroth raised his fist to break the glass. “He may not survive such a nasty shock to his system.” 

Sephiroth whirled around to face him. “Drain it. Now.” 

Hojo held up his hands. “That’s not up to you, Sephiroth. Stop acting like a child and have some patience. Your little toy will be up and running again soon enough.”

“How soon?” Sephiroth asked. 

“Four days.” Hojo glanced at him impatiently. “Is there anything else, Sephiroth?” 

Sephiroth shook his head. It took all the strength he had to turn away and walk out of that lab like he didn’t care in the slightest. But until he was removed from the mako, Cloud was at Hojo’s mercy, and so was Sephiroth. 

It was an unsettling thought. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally! Sorry this took so long!

The coeurl measured her days in the slow, methodical pace of the wide white room where she was kept. Her cage was large enough for her to turn around in, or pace restlessly four steps across. Cut off from any source of outside light or air, morning was announced when the lights flicked on, a blinding glare replacing the shadows. 

A small rabbit was dropped into her enclosure twice a day, and she made what sport of it she could, but the poor critters were usually stunned and motionless, and presented no challenge or entertainment. 

She ate because she was hungry, but she longed to  _ hunt. _

The day ended when the alpha human--the one who walked slightly hunched and spoke in a severe, nasally voice--left the room. The light turned off when he shut the door behind him. 

She was glad when that happened. She preferred the darkness to the harsh light that left nowhere to hide. 

She had settled down to sleep restlessly when she heard the door to the lab open again. But this time the light did not return. The intruder moved through the dark, his footsteps soft as any hunter’s. He was tall, and what little light there was glistened on the long silver mane that ran down his back. 

Though she had never seen him before, the coeurl knew him immediately by scent and intuition. Pack leader, alpha hunter,  _ master.  _ She lowered her head respectfully as he passed by. 

He walked to a strange container where the people in white had put a human with fluffy yellow fur atop his head. They’d filled it with glowing blue liquid, but somehow the human did not drown. He occasionally moved, slow and thoughtless like he was trapped in a dream. 

Now she watched Silver Mane approach the container and put his palm against the glowing cylinder. He closed his eyes and leaned his head slightly forward, looking lonely and sorrowful.

The coeurl whimpered softly in sympathy. She understood what it was to be alone. 

Silver Mane turned and glanced at her. His eyes glowed a color she had never seen before. 

He crossed the short distance to stand just outside of her cage and said something. She didn’t understand the humans’ strange noises, but she liked the sound of his voice. 

She put one paw on the glass, her tentacles clicking softly against it. Silver Mane looked into her eyes and past them, into her mind. He wanted to know what had happened to the human in the cylinder, so she showed him all that she remembered. 

_ Good girl.  _

He put his hand through the opening the rabbits came from, and she rubbed her head against it, purring. She wanted Silver Mane’s approval, wanted to leave this place with him and join his pack, and hunt together in the vast world outside. 

He stayed with her for a few moments, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. She sat back on her haunches and watched him leave as silently as he’d arrived. 

#

While Cloud was at Hojo’s mercy, Sephiroth could do nothing, yet he felt a strange compulsion to be at Cloud’s side. He could remember his own time in the tanks--when he turned ten years old, he spent weeks at a time submerged for the following six months--but the memories were strange and fragmented. He remembered the pain and isolation, and the fear that chilled him all the way to the bone. 

To think of Cloud experiencing the same was very nearly unbearable. Particularly when Hojo decided that four days was not nearly long enough, and stretched Cloud’s time in the tank to a dangerous two weeks. 

Sephiroth continued to visit Cloud, usually around two in the morning to avoid Hojo or any curious onlookers. Tonight, like any other night, Cloud was floating limply in the mako, eyes open but unseeing. Sephiroth pressed his palm to the glass of the tank and watched him. 

“Cloud,” he said, softly. “I’m here with you.” 

There was no response. Sephiroth did not expect one. 

“I...find it difficult to talk to you sometimes,” he admitted, watching the figure trapped in the glass. “I know that if I don’t perform well enough, you won’t keep coming back to me. The fear of failure means death on the battleground. Perhaps here as well.” 

Beside him, the heart monitor beeped its steady, comforting rhythm. 

“I’m not angry with you,” Sephiroth promised. “It’s only that I...don’t understand the things you make me feel.” 

Sephiroth brushed away a little condensation on the outside of the glass, studying Cloud for any signs of distress or pain. 

“I know that you’re strong enough for this,” Sephiroth said. “Nothing could break you. But I’m afraid all the same.” 

Behind Sephiroth, the coeurl mewed, and he turned towards her. She was a beautiful creature, sleek and long-limbed, her tentacles whip thin and deadly. Right now, they were lowered in a submissive posture. She wasn’t the first monster to see Sephiroth as pack leader. Unless he was with a force of hostile others, monsters Sephiroth encountered usually greeted him as kin. He supposed this, as much as anything, was indicative of his true nature. 

He was becoming attached to this coeurl, more than he should. Every time he came to the lab he reached out to her, using their J-cell connection, so that he could see everything that had happened to Cloud that day. And she knew. She understood what he wanted, and kept her focus on Cloud all day long so that she could better inform him. 

Coeurls were generally very smart, but she was exemplary. 

“How are you tonight?” he asked, approaching her cage. He’d read her memories when their minds touched and knew that she’d been born into captivity. She’d endured painful mako treatments for years, and the glow to her eyes and strength in her wiry frame were the result. 

She looked up at him hopefully and he sighed, pressing the button to open the door to her enclosure. He really shouldn’t do this, but the walls of the cage were all she knew. He understood what that was like. 

She bounded out and bumped her head affectionately against his hand. He felt her wild joy at the small measure of freedom, watching her cross the room and sniff at the base of the mako tank, then put her paws up on the glass, peering up at Cloud. 

He smiled at her, scratching her gently behind the ears. No one had ever been so concerned for his well being before, so eager to help him even when powerless herself. It would be better if the coeurl was more concerned about her own welfare. 

“You need a name,” he said, and she looked up towards him eagerly. 

He pretended to think for a moment, but the name was already fixed in his mind. It was a name he sometimes saw when he caught a glimpse of Hojo’s early  _ Project S _ files, a scientist who worked on the project at the very beginning. He knew nothing about the person recorded in the lab books as L. Crescent, but he always liked the sound of it. 

“How about Crescent?” he asked the coeurl. He had activated the J-cell connection between them often enough that she could now understand his speech, if not any other human’s. 

She butted her head playfully against his side, purring softly. 

“Crescent it is, then,” Sephiroth said. 

#

Crescent watched, her paws against the glass, as the human in the cylinder began to thrash and tremble. She mewed as loudly as she could, hoping that Silver Mane was nearby and would hear her. He wanted to know if anything happened to the human, and it would make him upset if the human was hurt. 

But no one heard her cries. The white room was dark and shadowy, all the humans gone for the night, even the alpha. 

She put her paws up on the perplexing clear surface that separated her from the room and watched, her heart beating wildly, as the human struggled, flailing until the cylinder broke and the liquid spilled out over the white floor. The human collapsed too, falling flat on his face. 

Was he dead? Crescent was beside herself with panic, walking back and forth in her little enclosure. Silver Mane would be heartbroken if his human died. 

The human moved again, struggling to push himself upright. Crescent could see blood beneath him, along with the glowing liquid. 

She rammed her shoulder against the cage wall with all the force of her desperation, again and again. It hurt, but after so much time held captive, the pain was better than the numbed nothingness she was used to. 

With a loud crack, the front of the cage ripped away, and she stumbled onto the cold floor of the white room. She ran to the human, licking at a wound on his arm before trying to get her nose under his shoulder and pry him upright. 

She was still trying to help him stand when the lights to the white room turned on, burning her eyes with their brightness. 

#

Sephiroth’s phone rang at seven in the morning, while he and Zack Fair were being briefed by Lazard for the mission that was about to start. It was a simple enough task that Zack could probably handle it on his own, but Angeal had requested Sephiroth accompany him and, “give him some pointers on using that ridiculous new sword of his.” 

“You had better have a good explanation for this,” Hojo said, by way of a greeting. 

“For what?” Sephiroth asked. 

“Just get down here, Sephiroth.” 

Sephiroth sighed, putting his phone away. “I’m off to the labs,” he said. “You’ll have to manage this one without me, Fair.”

Zack studied him, frowning. “Why don’t you tell Hojo to fuck off sometime?” 

“Maintenance is necessary for any weapon,” Sephiroth said. “Myself included.”

Zack blinked at him, looking startled, and Sephiroth took advantage of his momentary speechlessness to make his exit. 

When he got off the elevator, it was clear something was wrong. Two Turks were lingering in the hallway, backed up by a team of infantry. But all of them looked uneasy at the prospect of actually walking into the lab. 

Inside the wide white room, three SOLDIERs had set up a perimeter and were positioned with their swords drawn and at the ready. Another SOLDIER was watching the scene unfold through the scope of a high power rifle. None of them noticed Sephiroth, lingering in the back of the room. 

“Ready,” the ranking SOLDIER said. “Aim. FIre.” 

In his peripheral vision, Sephiroth caught sight of the SOLDIER with the rifle jerking into action. The Masamune was in his hand before the thought had fully formed, swinging upward so that the flat side of the blade pushed the barrel of the rifle towards the ceiling, the bullet destroying a light fixture in a flash of smoke and sparks. 

The other SOLDIERs, who had been ready to charge into combat, froze in place for a second before snapping to attention and giving Sephiroth a salute. 

“Stand down,” Sephiroth said. He kept his features indifferent as he slowly approached the furious, terrified mako-enhanced coeurl who was standing guard over Cloud’s body, her back stiff and her fur spiking as she bared her teeth and glanced wildly around the room. 

From the moment he’d walked in, he’d watched the slight rise and fall of Cloud’s chest. Cloud was sleeping, but not dead, and the blood on his body seemed to be from superficial wounds only--likely a result of the shattered glass when he’d broken out of the tank. Now that he’d survived the initial shock of leaving the mako solution, he would most likely come out of it unscathed. 

That didn’t ease the tightness in Sephiroth’s chest or the irrational, desperate need to hold Cloud in his arms. But at least he was able to control it. 

“Crescent,” he said, softly. She looked up at him and her stiff posture relaxed slightly. 

_ Good girl. Thank you for taking care of my Cloud.  _

She approached him carefully, and when he reached out his hand, she bumped her head against it, her tentacles twining gently around his wrist. 

“I’ll take it from here,” Sephiroth said without turning around. All SOLDIERs would obey him without question. “You’re all dismissed.” 

He heard several murmured “yes, sir”s, and boots on the linoleum floor, until finally, he was alone. Only then did he let himself kneel on the ground and lift Cloud into his arms. 

Cloud blinked at him, leaning his head against Sephiroth’s chest. “Gaia, this is embarrassing,” he mumbled. “‘M not a fuckin damsel in distress.” 

“I would never think that,” Sephiroth promised him solemnly. He got to his feet, holding Cloud, and clucked his tongue for Crescent to follow him. Cloud’s head leaned against his chest as he slipped into unconsciousness again. 

“And where do you think you’re taking him?” Hojo stood in the hallway, a cup of coffee in one hand and his lab notebook in the other. 

“To my place,” Sephiroth said. “I’ll take care of him.” 

“ _ You _ ?” Hojo’s large forehead wrinkled with surprise. “Sephiroth, don’t be absurd.” 

“I’m serious,” Sephiroth insisted. 

“Have you ever taken care of anyone before?” Hojo asked. “Sephiroth, you were made to be a weapon. Let someone else play nursemaid.” 

Sephiroth held Cloud a little tighter. “I can be more than that. I will be more, for him.” 

Hojo was quiet for a moment, looking him over. “Be careful. If you don’t dull your sharp edges, he’ll get cut on them. And if you do, well...what value would you have left, hmm?”

Crescent bumped her head gently against his thigh, her tentacles traveling slowly in Hojo’s direction. 

“Crescent,” Sephiroth said, clucking his tongue. “Don’t electrocute Hojo.” 

Hojo’s dark eyes narrowed. “Crescent?” 

“It’s her name,” Sephiroth said. “I’ve been taking care of her. Because I have the capacity to do more than just kill. You should know that, as it’s the only reason you’re not dead.” 

He hefted Cloud in his arms and walked off, Crescent close by his side. 

#

Cloud woke slowly from vivid dreams of Hojo’s mutterings as he went about his experiments, and later, Sephiroth’s voice, saying things that Sephiroth would never actually say. 

He was in a wide, soft bed, the ceiling above him pale and distant. It took him a moment to remember what had happened. 

_ I made it through the tank!  _

He sat up, grinning, and immediately regretted it as his head spun wildly. He leaned back against the pillows with a soft groan. 

“Cloud?” In an instant, Sephiroth was at his side, looking worried.

“Hey.” Cloud managed a weak smile. “Did ya miss me?” 

He’d meant it as a joke, but Sephiroth was all sincerity when he answered. “Yes. Of course.” 

Cloud smiled loopily at him. That was nice to hear. 

“How are you?” Sephiroth asked. “I remember the mako tank was...difficult to endure.” 

“It hurt a lot at first,” Cloud admitted. “I thought I’d go crazy. But then I started having these...really strange dreams.” 

Sephiroth studied his face carefully. He raised a hand as though to touch Cloud, but after a moment he pulled it back. “Nightmares, you mean?”

“Nah,” Cloud said. “They were dreams. Good ones. Unless you actually came down to the labs all the time to talk to me and make friends with a coeurl.” 

He thought he saw a flicker of a smile cross Sephiroth’s lips. Sephiroth made a soft clucking noise, like Cloud might make to calm a chocobo, and patted the side of the bed. 

A gray coeurl put its paws on the bed and peered up over the edge, its glowing eyes landing on Cloud. Its ears went flat and a low growl filled the room. 

“Tch. None of that,” Sephiroth said, reaching past the lethal tentacles to scratch behind the creature’s ears. “Cloud is a friend.” 

“You’re kidding,” Cloud murmured. 

“Cloud, meet Crescent. She looked after you when you broke out of the mako tank.” 

Cloud wondered if that meant the rest of it was true too, if Sephiroth really had come to see him so often, and if he’d meant all of the things he’d said. 

“I wanna tell you something,” he said, sitting up with a grimace. His body was still feeling the effects of whatever the hell that much mako did to one’s physiology, and he felt like he could sleep for a week. 

This time Sephiroth did touch him, gently trying to push him back down onto the bed. But Cloud resisted, because he really wanted to not be completely helpless as he said this. 

“I’m not as strong as you,” Cloud pushed Sephiroth’s careful hand away. “I know that. But I’m close. I want you to treat me like a fuckin equal. Okay? Someone captures me on the battlefield, you don’t gotta drop everything and rescue me. Got it? I ain’t your fuckin damsel in distress.” 

“Cloud.” Sephiroth’s mouth quirked up slightly. “Do you really think I would be so interested in you if you were too weak to protect yourself?” 

Cloud huffed a soft sigh, wishing both for Sephiroth to listen to him and for the room to stop spinning. “But when Genesis took me hostage in that duel, you almost lost your shit.” 

“Lay down,” Sephiroth said, pushing Cloud gently down onto the bed. “I can’t help it. I think if I were to lose you I’d burn this entire planet to ash.” 

Cloud could hear the sincerity in Sephiroth’s voice, the affection he’d been withholding all this time. Who could blame either of them for being cautious, in such a dangerous place? But he had no reason to be afraid. Together, they were stronger than anything Shinra or the Planet might throw at them. 

“That’s so melodramatic,” he said, tugging on the front of Sephiroth’s shirt to bring him closer. “I love you too. In a less melodramatic way.” 

Sephiroth kissed him until the coeurl jumped on the bed, startling them both. 

“You’re going to tell her she can’t sleep here, right?” Cloud asked. 

“Hmm.” Sephiroth glanced at the coeurl, then at Cloud, looking more content and peaceful than Cloud had ever seen him. “Crescent. Get down.” 

She lifted her head, blinked at him, and then laid back down on his expensive comforter. 

“You’d better write her up for insubordination, General,” Cloud said, snickering. 

“She’ll have to get in line after you,” Sephiroth replied, but he was smiling too. 


End file.
